Fragmented
by Ysrith
Summary: Crichton makes it home to Earth again, but the Scarrans got there first. AU. Angst. ViolenceLangauge


TITLE: Fragmented

SUMMARY: AU - Crichton is back on Earth, but the Scarrans got there first.

DISCLAIMER: Farscape, Crichton and the other characters therein belong to Henson, Sci-Fi, etc.I am just borrowing them on a temporary basis.

SPOILERS: None

WARNING: Language and violence.

John stood in the doorway, half hidden in the shadows. The cold rain dripped down on the leather greatcoat adding to his misery. The air was chill and damp, and he could feel it as a deep ache in his bones.

"You're getting old John."

Aeryn's mocking voice in his head. She stood in front of him, all black leather and guns.

"Body's not what it used to be. At least not anymore. Does it still hurt John?"

He flinched and turned away. He could hear the others mumbling, so he closed his eyes to try and shut them out.

"Leave me alone!" He whispered. "Please not now. I want you to leave me alone."

"We are never alone John," Harvey replied.

John turned and saw nothing. No, it could not be Harvey. Scorpius was dead. Harvey was dead. That was why he was insane. He laughed out loud. Some of the people walking by turned to stare at him. He stared back.

Yeah, take a look at the mad human!

He cackled again and hunched down in the doorway. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with shaking fingers. His hands shook all the time now. The plumes of his breath rose on the chill air. He watched the crowd and listened to the voices in his head. TV had nothing on this.

Despite the rain and the damaged buildings, there was a festival atmosphere. They were celebrating. It was one year since the Scarrans had been defeated. He remembered that much. Chiana had told him that.

Across the alley he spotted a girl in the crowd. She was thin, all long red curls and a bright blue coat. Hard not to see her. He wondered what he looked like to her. He closed his eyes again.

"Do you really want to see what you look like John?"

Zhaan's voice this time.

"Heh Blue!"

But she was no longer blue. Her color had faded and there was mildew growing from her forehead.

He looked in the window opposite and saw a stranger, a tall thin man with sunken eyes and beard stubble. Scars on his face. His hair was wild, standing on end. Beneath the coat, he wore torn blue jeans and a flannel shirt. He was old, lines around his eyes, gray in his hair. He stared at his reflection.

"That's not me Zhaan, that's the other John. The one that should not have been."

He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked again. This time he saw a man in Peacekeeper leather, Winona by his side. He smiled. It was better that way, was safer that way.

The girl came closer. She was young and pretty.

"She was young, she was pretty, Queen of New York City."

Pilot was singing in his head. He laughed. There was no New York anymore.

The girl spotted him.

"What's so funny mister?" she asked.

He said nothing and smiled at her.

"Gimme a light?"

A thin hand waved a cigarette in front of him.

He shook his head. "Bad for you, stunt your growth!"

"You're smoking!"

She was young, all bright eyes and bushy tail. Did she know she was already dead? He looked past and saw the dead men walking through the crowd, their wounds bleeding, brushing against the living ones, leaving their bloodstains behind. They disappeared into the crowd. Blood on the ground. Why did no-one else see it?

"Can you see them?"

"Who?" She turned round and glanced at the passing throng.

"Never mind," He whispered.

She wore a necklace, a Scarran emblem. He reached up and touched it.

"Scarran," he whispered.

"Yeah." She shook his hand off and moved slightly further away.

He could see the fear in her eyes. Was used to that now. They all looked at him like that. Fear and sorrow. He hated that. He wasn't dangerous, just insane. Didn't they know that?

"Got it off a Scarran corpse. Figured it might be worth something."

Scarrans, pain, darkness. He closed his eyes, warding off the images. His body shook.

"Heh Mister, you ok?" She reached towards him.

He smiled at her.

"Don't worry, be happy!" D'Argo in the background.

Images of a room with chains and a Scarran and pain.

Harvey! Where was Harvey?

"Where is he?" he asked the girl. "Where's Harvey?"

She laughed. "Who's Harvey?"

He down up at her confused."Harvey's not here anymore!"

"That your name Mister, Harvey?"

"No... my name's ..." He tried to think straight. "I'm not Harvey., but Harvey was me. We had a strange relationship."

"Okay!" She backed off a bit more. "But you're looking for this Harvey bloke now?"

"Harvey's gone. They took him away. They killed Harvey, set him free. Left me behind."

She was scared now. "Fuckin' addict. You're off your tree!"

"Always look on the bright side of life." Stark had started in on the singing now.

"Yeah, that's what they say. I hear them. They don't think I know what they're saying. Off my trolley, magra farbot, flipped it. I hear Dad and Pip arguing about me." He moved closer to her. "You're not Chiana. You look like Jool! Do you know where Moya is?"

"Mister, my name's Kelly."

She had hair like Jool, all long red curls, damp in the rain.

"I miss Jool, well not her screaming. She was loud. Jool's on Moya. They're waiting for us to return. But they won't let me find her. They're keeping me here."

The girl tried to back off again.

"What's a Moya? Are you one of those aliens, those Peacekeepers?"

Her voice was panicky now.

Why were they all so afraid of him?

"You're one of them aren't you?"

"No." He shook his head, trying to calm her down. "I only look like one. I'm not one. Aeryn was the Peacekeeper, not me. She left me." He paused, unable to remember. The voices in the background were now singing "You were always on my mind". "Stop that!" He snapped at them. He turned to the girl. "She left me or I left her ...I can't remember which..."

He grabbed the girl's arm. "Do you know where Moya is? They won't tell me. I want to go home to Moya."

She struggled to get free of his grip but he held her tight. She screamed, and the next thing he knew a group of men were pulling him off her.

"Heh, what the fuck are you up to?"

"What are you playing at?"

Their harsh voices melded with the ones in his head. He felt rough hands against him, and he struggled, lashing out.

"Tell me the location of Scorpius?"

A fist cracked into his face.

"Tell me where the half-breed is and I will let you live."

"Get your kicks from hurting little girls"

"He's one of those Peacekeepers"

Another fist, this time his stomach, and he fell to the ground

"How far has Scorpius got in his development of Wormhole Technology?"

A lizard-like face; hot breath layered with whiskey.

He curled on the ground, thin arms trying to protect ribs. A boot to his side. He screamed

"Tell us Crichton and we will let you live."

Pain. His head cracked off the pavement. Blood in his mouth.

Hanging, arms screaming in agony. Blood, all he could taste was blood.

Cold flesh caressing his, screams, a boot to his kidneys, naked and cold flesh, pain, rain, whiskey, pain...

A woman screaming, shots firing, and a soft voice, a white face shining in the rain.

"Oh dren John! Can you hear me? Lie still. Help is on it's way."

He gazed into her dark, black eyes, and the darkness came...


End file.
